


Sparkle

by archangelwithashotgun



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelcest, Gabriel Lives, Lapdance, M/M, One Word Prompts, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Sparkle, Stripper!Balthazar, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archangelwithashotgun/pseuds/archangelwithashotgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparkle (Middle English): shine brightly with flashes of light; vivacious and witty.</p>
<p>Post S5; Gabriel visits Balthazar at his workplace to ask for his help. Balthazar has an usually fitting job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparkle

**Author's Note:**

> My mind instantly went dirty with this prompt (as it usually does), and there is implied angelcest. I have NO prior knowledge or experience dealing with clubs/facilities as mentioned below; I just wrote based off of whatever I saw on TV. Excuse any errors, and I hope you enjoy!

A rustle of wings fluttered in the cool evening air, silent enough to not be noticed by the bustling crowds in the street. The figure walked out from the concealing shadows of the alleyway, sidestepping a few people as he passed them, and came to a slow stop on the street curb. He directed his gaze to the facility before him. A steady, staccato beat of hip-hop music was pulsing from within the club, audible even outside with the chattering streams of people walking past on the busy sidewalks. Men, and even some women, were walking in and out, some alone, others joined by a partner. A neon-orange sign flashed cursive letters, illuminating the sidewalk in front of the building, and he quirked a brow at it.

_The Sunken Ship._

He chuckled quietly to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving forward in a confident strut. He jogged across the street with a quick glance for traffic, quickly opened the door, and slipped inside.

The music throbbed within him once he was inside; it pounded through his body in steady pulses, and he could hear the muffled sounds of lyrics coming from the booming speakers. Over it all, he could hear the rambunctious cheers and shrill whistles of men coming from inside the main room. He slowly crossed the entrance lobby, eyes on the open doorway, where flashes of red and orange light streamed into the hallway.

Rounding the threshold, he slowed to a stop, one brow furrowed, the other raised at the spectacle.

The scene was a large room, tables placed evenly throughout the floor, a circle of booths at the center. There were three stages stretching out from the far back wall and from both side walls, each consisting of a smooth catwalk that formed into a large and round dance space, with a pole stemming from its center and stretching up to the ceiling. At the back of each stage, there was a pair of drawn maroon curtains, occasionally shimmering with light movement. Disco lights flashed and flickered and bounced around merrily, coating the audience of rowdy men with tints of orange and red, green and blue, purple and pink.

He sauntered forward toward the stage at the back of the room, and conveniently a man rose from his desired chair at the table right smack in the center of the floor before it. Calmly, he sank down in the seat, propping an elbow on the table surface and resting his temple against his fist, waiting.

“Gentlemen,” a bodiless voice echoed from the speakers as the song trailed off into the start of a new one. “Please give a warm welcome to… Sparkle!”

The curtains fluttered and flew open, and Sparkle walked out.

Completely naked save for the sailor cap, black work boots, and navy-blue panties that glimmered brightly like stars in the flashing lights, Balthazar was elegant in his approach, smoothly strutting forward toward the pole. His sly smirk radiated all the cockiness and arrogance that he was, and his posture was the embodiment of smug demeanor. His fingers coiled around the sleek metal and he yanked himself forward, twisting around and plastering his back against the pole in one fluid motion before he just as smoothly lowered himself down, legs spreading wide.

_Rollin’ up to the club on the weekend_

_Stylin’ out to the beat that you’re freakin’_

_Fantasize on the track that you’re tweakin’_

_Blow my heart up_

_Put your hands on my waist, pull the fader_

_Run it back with original flavor_

_Queue me up, I’m the twelve on your table_

_I’m so starstruck_

Balthazar flew through his routine without an issue, making it a point to include audience participation in his performance; he particularly gravitated his attention toward a dark-haired man with a sharp jaw that was eyeing Balthazar from the left side of the stage. Balthazar’s smirk never faltered as he sunk prone onto the floor, his hips rolling and grinding against the sleek surface suggestively, his taut muscles rippling under his tanned skin. He raised himself onto one hand, giving the man a small salute before slowly lifting himself up into an upright position, stroking his hands provocatively up his sides and over his chest, his hips swaying to the beat of the music.

The jeers and enthusiastic whoops in response to Balthazar’s routine echoed around the club, heard easily over the music. A surplus of bills flew onto the stage, ranging from singles to hundreds, and before long Balthazar even had quite a few bills slipped into his panties, the tight fabric bulging him further with the addition.

It was near the end of the song now, and Balthazar was knelt down on one knee with his eyes closed, legs slightly open, and back pressed against the silver pole. Slowly, he stood, back arching against the metal. In a quick motion, he spread his legs and shot the upper half of his body downward, the pole practically pressing his panties into the crack of his ass. Just as quickly, his head whipped up and his eyes snapped open, facing the audience front and center.

Their eyes met.

Balthazar’s smirk, unchanging and unwavering throughout the entire routine, stiffened.

Gabriel’s brows raised, his stoic demeanor gradually disappearing as a sly smile stretched across his face.

Their interaction last only a moment before Balthazar’s composure was regained, and the persona was Sparkle was back, confident and smug and sexy as Balthazar straightened up and crept backwards, leering predatorily at Gabriel as he reached back for the pole.

Gabriel chuckled lowly to himself, sitting up in interest as he watched Balthazar finish his routine. His movements were noticeably more exaggerated now, as if Gabriel’s presence influenced just how deeply he thrust his pelvis forward or rolled his torso, but they didn’t falter in the fluidity of their execution. Balthazar was truly a star on that stage.

Soon, Lady Gaga trailed off to a close, and Balthazar finished his twist around the pole, giving Gabriel an acknowledging tip of his sailor hat.

“One more time, gentlemen! Give it up for _Sparkle_!”

Balthazar’s smirk widened at the fresh round of cheers following the end of his performance and the final shower of bills that fluttered at his feet. Gabriel watched as he bent down to scoop up the money, invisible grace assisting him in the small task. The archangel sighed quietly, shaking his head in amusement as he glanced down at the table. In a slow flick of his hand, a cold bottle of beer materialized, condensation dripping on the surface, and he picked it up and brought it to his lips for a large swig.

“I wasn’t aware that this was your particular scene.”

Gabriel calmly lowered the beer from his mouth, looking up. Balthazar was making his way over to him, upholding his confident persona, a smirk still plastered on his face. Gabriel swallowed and placed the beer back on the table, licking his lips.

“I’ve been known to dabble,” Gabriel replied, a grin snapping onto his face. He briefly cast his eyes over to the left side of the stage before turning back to Balthazar. “Thought you had eyes for Mr. Dark and Mysterious over there.”

“Just a regular client, and he can deal without my undivided attention for one night,” Balthazar responded coyly, stepping forward. Gabriel tilted his head up curiously as Balthazar’s hands slithered up his arms and onto his shoulders in a firm grip, his legs spreading as he walked over Gabriel’s lap, practically straddling him. “Just keeping up appearances.”

Gabriel chuckled, slowly reaching out and trailing his fingers over the bare flesh of Balthazar’s thighs. “Sparkle, huh?”

Balthazar rolled his eyes and didn’t offer a response, instead lowering himself so that he just barely grazed against Gabriel’s jeans, rolling his hips slowly. After a moment, he said, “I thought you were dead. Should have known it wasn’t true.”

Gabriel hummed, his thumbs catching on the waistband of the panties, cupping his hands around Balthazar’s hips. “I’m disappointed in your lack of faith in me, Balth.”

“Yes well,” Balthazar murmured, sinking a little lower, grinding erotically against Gabriel’s left thigh, one hand slipping down from Gabriel’s shoulder and stroking down the expanse of his chest. He leaned in and pressed his brow against Gabriel’s, their noses brushing together, and his lips scraped lightly over the side of Gabriel’s mouth. “Faith is a little hard to come by these days.”

Gabriel nodded, a thin smile pulling at his lips. A small snap later, and he removed his hand from Balthazar’s hip, revealing a wad of bills before him. “Why don’t we move away from prying eyes and go somewhere a bit more private? Pretty sure you have accommodations like that, right?”

Balthazar rolled his eyes again, taking the cash and slipping it under the elastic band of his panties. He stepped back from Gabriel’s lap, and offered his hand to the archangel. “Follow me then, love.”

Gabriel barked out a laugh and took the offered hand, allowing Balthazar to lead him to the private rooms located at the far end of the club.

The private room that they walked into was considerably darker than the main dance room. The lights were dimmed sensually, floating around the walls of the room, painting the floor and ceiling in red. A long, comfortable booth was curled around another pole, this one bronze rather than silver. A table was pressed up against the back wall, partially hidden in the shadows, though that didn’t stop Gabriel from noticing what was laid on it.

His hand slipping free from Balthazar’s, Gabriel turned to face him and said, “Since when did your kinks become so… mundane?”

Balthazar shook his head in exasperation, shutting the door behind them. Once enveloped in the privacy of the room, the persona of Sparkle slipped away, and Balthazar was back, glaring at Gabriel with the true anger of an angel. “You’re an arse, and we have other matters to talk about, first and foremost being _what the hell are you doing here_ , Gabriel?”

“Whoa, ease up there, sailor,” Gabriel said, palms out in a faux calming gesture, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Balth.”

Balthazar scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?” he repeated, his tone losing the bulk of its initial hostility, though it was apparent he was still irritable.

At his brother’s submission, Gabriel dropped his hands and shrugged, grinning. “I can’t drop by to see my little brother at work?”

“Gabriel—“

“I need your help, alright?” Gabriel huffed, rolling his eyes. “Something is about to happen, Balthazar. Something big. And I’m going to need your help.”

Balthazar listened stoically, arms still crossed over his chest as he blew out a large exhale. He appeared interested, but stubbornly tried to maintain his harsh composure. “What makes you think I’ll _willingly_ put myself in danger for you?”

“Because it’s for _me_ ,” Gabriel said, bouncing his brows playfully. “’Cause I’m your brother. And you love me.”

“Really starting to question whoever made that decision for me,” Balthazar sniped back, though his lips quirked up, his annoyance gradually seeping away. “So… what is it you need my help with?”

“I’ll tell you,” Gabriel said, a wide, mischievous smirk spreading across his face, and he slowly began to walk backwards toward the booth, cocking his finger in a ‘come-hither’ motion. “But first… How about you give me what I paid for?”


End file.
